There was a time when Sri Lankan parents drummed into their kids that the only ticket out of the rat race was a university degree. Unless you were born with a silver spoon, it was books over bats. But those equations have been rewritten. These days, if you can land the ball on a sixpence and send stumps cartwheeling, the world’s your oyster.

Just ask Kasun Rajitha — the latest poster boy for how far cricket can take you. Hailing from the sleepy hamlet of Telijjawila, tucked away in the heartland of Matara, Rajitha has swapped village gravel for Chelmsford’s green carpets after being roped in as Essex’s overseas pro.

It’s been quite the journey for the lanky quick. From a backwater that barely knew cricket to the hallowed turf where titans like Graham Gooch, Sir Alastair Cook, John Lever, Keith Boyce and Mark Waugh once strutted their stuff. Rajitha’s rise has been more tortoise than hare, but he’s carved a niche with grit, guile, and gallons of sweat.

One of Sri Lanka’s quiet revolutions in Test cricket has been the way our pacers have punched above their weight abroad. Rajitha may not grab the headlines, but he’s been a key cog in the wheel — doing the donkey work while others grab the glory.

The pecking order, though, is a tough dressing room to crack. Asitha Fernando is usually the first name on the team sheet. Then comes Lahiru Kumara — the firebrand with raw pace. If a third seamer’s needed, the variety of Vishwa Fernando’s left-arm angle often gets the nod. Now, with Milan Ratnayake floating around as a seam-bowling all-rounder, Kasun’s opportunities are few and far between.

In fact, he hasn’t played a Test since March last year. And ironically, in that very game, he picked up a bagful — eight wickets — but still found himself warming the bench. At home, selectors rarely go beyond two seamers. Overseas, they look for contrast. Rajitha, it seems, is often the bridesmaid, never the bride.

What he lacks in express pace or eye-popping variations, he makes up for with discipline and doggedness. He’s the kind of bowler who hits the top of off till the batter blinks first. A workhorse who thrives in the long haul, not the highlight reel.

County cricket, meanwhile, is no walk in the park. It’s a marathon, not a sprint — cricket under cloudy skies with hardly a breather. When you’re not sending down overs by the dozen, you’re on a coach to some other ground. There’s little time for nets or rehab — it’s rinse and repeat. But it’s also the best boot camp to turn you into a thoroughbred pro.

Rajitha’s new-ball buddy Asitha Fernando has also boarded the county train, donning Glamorgan colours in Wales. He’s already hit the ground running, bagging four wickets in his first outing. Meanwhile, Vishwa Fernando, after spells with Yorkshire and Durham, is now at Warwickshire, the same county that Kumar Sangakkara represented in 2007.

The trend is unmistakable. Once upon a time, English counties turned to the Caribbean or South Africa when they wanted fast bowling firepower. Now, they’re looking east — beyond Colombo in fact. In far off places like Matara and Katuneriya.

And let’s not kid ourselves — the pay packet isn’t too shabby either. A full season fetches between 80,000 to 120,000 British Pounds. Multiply that by 400 and that’s good enough to buy an apartment over here.

Of course, those in the IPL are in a different financial stratosphere altogether. Dasun Shanaka, who just inked a deal with Gujarat Titans, might carry drinks all tournament, but he’ll return with a cool $87,000 in his account. That’s how the IPL has turned the cricketing economy on its head — what County cricket offer now feels like peanuts.

Still, for the grinders, the grafters, and the late bloomers, County cricket remains a proving ground. And for Rajitha, it’s a well-earned second wind.

by Rex Clementine